Take Me Away | ✔️

35. NOTHING WILL MAKE IT BETTER

WHEN YOU MURDER A CRIMINAL, you expect to be locked up too because that isn't how everything works. The only thing that kept me out of their jail was the fact Ruvée personally knew me and knew how he tortured me. It wasn't easy, knowing that I'd be facing her jail when she saw the video of me shooting Max but Alex still protected me even if he didn't need to.

"Mom, you can't lock her up," Alex protested, blocking her from the doorway. "She's eighteen and she's been in a traumatic incident. Besides, the bastard deserved it. After what he did to her? I should've pulled the trigger myself back when we rescued her."

"Relax, Alex," Ruvée stepped around him, taking the seat in front of me. "I don't plan on arresting you. I do plan on taking an explanation from you when I specifically said that you can only use it when he tries to attack you."

My whole body for the past hour after I have shot him was still even when I was experiencing flashbacks from the image of his blood scattered, his mouth agape, and eyes wide. He was dead and yet, it still didn't feel right.

"I should've shot his dick first," I crossed my arms, something that I did to feel like I was protecting myself even if it was just a simple gesture. "He's dead and I still don't feel safe. Ever since I got every bit of memories, I've not slept yet because I'm afraid I will dream about his body all over me and it makes me physically sick. Even if he's far away and alive, I will never feel safe. So, wherever he is right now, I hope he rots like the fucking sewer rat he is and feel how painful it is to have a bullet right between the eyes."

She merely stared at me, nodded, and pointed at Alex who was staying by the corner, watching us. "He'll drive you back home while I deal with this. You should get some rest, Sam. It's not easy, taking a life for the first time even if he is Max." As she walked back to the door, she turned her head halfway to me. "I'm sorry, Sam, for not getting to you sooner."

Everyone is always sorry. What does it even do to me? Does it make me feel better? No, it doesn't. What it does is make them feel better, that's the reality of it all.

Still, I shook my head and shrugged. "The cabin was well hidden and off the grid. No one could have known where we were. You've got nothing to be sorry for. None of you do."

And yet, everyone will feel like they need to be sorry about it. I never did like pity on anyone, and people just giving all they have of it onto me was only the tip of the ice berg of what I didn't want to have.

Alex and I walked out of the building, passing the stares of the men and women who wore suits and gun around their waistbands, without any word said to one another. By the way his face was contorted, I could tell that not only was he processing what happened, he was also finding a way of talking to me about it.

I killed Max. What was there supposed to talk about?

The second the doors of the car closed, he turned to stare at me. "What the hell were you thinking?"

I refused to look at him. "Can you just take me home?"

From my peripheral vision, I could see how he shook his head in disapproval. "No. I thought you were getting better. You said that you felt better at the hospital before you were discharged, and now you do something like this. Back there, you said that you remembered everything. We're not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong with you. What's going on inside your head, Sam?"

There was nothing I could do but just stare at the succeeding cars beside us at the parking lot. I had always talked to Alex about things I never even told Travis when we were together because he's seen things of me that no one else had.